


Frozen Still

by flightlessnerds



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: 2011, Early Days, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, New Year's Eve, Shyness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-13 20:30:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9141046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flightlessnerds/pseuds/flightlessnerds
Summary: Josh's lips tasted like champagne and new beginnings.





	1. 2011

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy 2017 everyone! Pardon me while I turn back time, to fluffier days...
> 
> Russian Translation: [[x](https://ficbook.net/readfic/5598421)]

There were exactly forty seconds left in 2010, and Tyler was starting to panic.

Forty seconds left until the ball dropped, and forty seconds left to pull this kiss off, if he was going to pull it off at all. Parties were very much _not_ within Tyler's usual modus operandi, but this one was different - this one had _Josh_ ; and given that he had dragged himself here for the express purpose of kissing his crush at midnight, it would be truly pathetic if he chickened out at the last minute. 

Besides, this was probably the last good excuse that Tyler would have until next year. He’d spent practically the whole afternoon convincing himself that he could do it, he _needed_ to do it, because if not tonight, if not _New Years Eve_ , then he would undoubtedly be in for another year of suppressed feelings, inconspicuous glances, and probing questions from his mother about why he _hadn’t found a nice girl yet._

Tyler wanted to kiss Josh. He’d wanted to kiss Josh since meeting him. He spent practically every incidental moment of his life, every minute of their friendship, and every second in between wanting to kiss Josh. But here he was, with the ideal opportunity, and lacking the balls to do anything about it. 

Typical. 

People were already starting to break off into couples, preparing for their inevitable make-outs to usher in 2011; Chris and Krista, Colin and Michelle, Michael and Caroline, Nick and that new girlfriend of his whose name Tyler could never seem to remember…

The rest of them, the _single_ ones, remained alone on the outskirts of the living room, clutching at their beers or their champagne flutes, and pretending to cheer enthusiastically along with everyone else. But, to Tyler’s horror, even some of them had started to pair up, claiming that it was just for fun, just friends, _just New Years Eve, after all._

Josh was sitting on the couch opposite Tyler, nursing his drink and humming lazily, with huge “2011” antennae bobbing in his curls. He was tipsy, but quiet; cheeks flushed, smiling contentedly to himself, and playing with a rip in his jeans. Nothing in the world had ever looked softer, and Tyler’s chest was on fire.

Josh blinked at him, cocking his head to the side, and Tyler felt his cheeks darken. He cast his eyes around the other couples, arms around each other and gazes on the television, and Josh followed his line of vision. Their eyes met again in the middle, and Josh stuck out his bottom lip, shrugging his shoulders, as if to say, _yeah, me neither._

Tyler was in silent crisis. 

He knew that if he left this party having watched Josh kiss someone else at midnight, he’d never forgive himself in the morning. Even worse, if he had to go back home knowing that Josh had been sitting alone, available, not having kissed anyone at _all_ … he probably wouldn’t forgive himself for the entirety of the new year.

This, Tyler thought, as Josh rested his chin against his knees, was a boy who should be kissed. 

And yet, once again, his shyness was going to win. He would be alone at midnight, for the twenty-second year in a row. The news anchor cheerfully announced that the ball was about to drop, and the living room buzzed with a flurry of motion as everyone inched closer to their significant others. Tyler sighed, pulling his sock-feet up under his legs on the couch, quietly resigning himself to another year of loneliness and tortured inhibition. 

The last ten seconds of 2010 happened in slow motion.

_ten_

In a synchronized, almost mechanical motion, everyone raised their glasses. Champagne sloshed over people’s fingers and laps, and Colin loudly bemoaned the state of his cushions.

_nine_

Tyler’s eyes found Josh’s from across the couches for the briefest of moments, and he let his gaze flicker away like candlelight. 

_eight_

Josh bit his lip, cheeks still flushed slightly from the champagne, or possibly from bashfulness, bringing his eyes up again to stare at Tyler through thick, timid eyelashes.

_seven_

Tyler’s heart rate doubled in speed.

_six_

Josh set his glass down on the side-table, not bothering with a coaster, and ignoring Mark’s sidelong and knowing glance from across the room. His wide, brown eyes glistened, and Tyler held his breath. 

_five_

He stood up, swaying only very slightly, but never breaking Tyler’s gaze.

_four_

Impossibly slowly, as if time itself had stopped working in these final moments of this year - this year that had brought each of their music to life, that had brought twenty one pilots into existence, and had brought them to each other - Josh started to move in his direction.

_three_

Unnoticed by the others, who only had eyes for the TV, Josh padded his way across the floor, coming to a stop in front of Tyler, toes overlapping his toes on the carpet. 

_two_

Josh knelt, tipsily, on the couch; one knee on either side of Tyler’s, one hand on each of his cheeks.

_one_

Tyler’s whimper was lost in the commotion, fleeing alongside his hesitation.

_HAPPY NEW YEAR!_

Josh’s mouth tasted like champagne and new beginnings.

There were lips moving on his lips, and Tyler couldn’t catch his breath. Josh's chest was flush against his, and Tyler's hand trailed upward as they kissed, and kissed, and _kissed,_ knocking the antennae out of his hair. Nothing in the universe could have prepared him for the weightlessness, the sheer fluttering _light_ that this closeness brought with it, Josh's breath on his chin, his stubble on his cheek, his tongue in his mouth.

Tyler was inert, incapacitated; Josh was heavy on his lap, and lazy on his lips, and the others were starting to laugh delightedly, disbelievingly…

It didn’t matter.

When Josh pulled away, Tyler pulled him back, wrapping both hands around his waist and holding tightly, unwilling to let go. 

Josh smiled, nudging his nose carelessly against Tyler’s temple, his voice quiet in his ear. 

“The rest of 2011 has a lot to live up to,” he murmured. 

Tyler couldn’t have agreed more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soft RAB boys are my aesthetic


	2. 2012

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ur fave RAB trash noodle is back with some good old fashioned soft kisses

“Josh?"

His name sounded muffled in the unusually quiet kitchen. The absence of music, of TV, and even of the hum of the refrigerator, made the rental house feel eerily silent to Josh. Even the storm felt quiet now.

“Josh,” Tyler called again from the couch. He was still facing the lifeless TV, out of habit, Josh supposed. “Hurry up with those candles, or we’re not gonna make it in time.”

“Yes, your majesty,” Josh taunted, finally locating matches in a drawer to the left of the sink, and fumbling his way back into the living room by the light of his phone.

Tyler sat with his back against the front of the couch, surrounded by a semicircle of unlit candles. Every inch of him save for his face was bundled up, in hoodies and beanies and scarves, quilts and duvets, collected from Tyler’s bedroom, and Mark’s, and the hall linen closet. 

He looked like he was ready to brave an antarctic winter. 

“Don’t even think about making fun of me,” Tyler mumbled, disgruntled. “I have no idea how you aren’t freezing right now.”

Josh settled down next to him, leaning against the couch.

“I’m warm-blooded,” he offered. “Naturally steamy. Plus, the power goes out a lot at my place, so I’m used to it.”

“Hm,” Tyler responded, rearranging his beanie, and extracting his arms from his blankets far enough to grab the matches from Josh, striking one against the outside of the box. He considered the flame for a moment, and then without warning, yelped and shook the matchstick vigorously, dropping it onto the carpet.

“Jesus - Tyler, you loser!” Josh laughed. “You have to actually light the freaking _candles,_ not just sit there letting the match burn until it melts your fingers off!

Tyler scowled, striking a second match, and successfully lighting the first candle, then the second, and then the rest, until they were surrounded in a flickering orange glow.

“Alright,” Josh said, shifting himself closer to Tyler, and pulling out his phone. “I still have 6%. That should definitely last us the next three minutes until midnight.”

He felt Tyler wriggle slightly, before letting out a frustrated sigh, tilting his head back as much as his blanket prison would allow.

“I can’t believe we’re missing our anniversary,” he grumbled. 

Josh scoffed, swatting Tyler gently on his arm. 

“We aren’t missing it,” he countered. “We are sitting right here, together, celebrating.” 

Josh knew what he had meant, though. This was supposed to have been something else entirely. Mark and Chris had purposely relocated for the night, leaving the house for them. Josh had blown his share of the money from their gig last weekend on fancy champagne, which was probably now getting warm in the fridge - everything was in place for them to re-enact, to remember, the spontaneous kiss that had brought them together. 

Josh shivered involuntarily, forgetting for a moment to fight against the chill of the room.

“You’re cold, aren’t you,” Tyler smirked.

He opened his mouth, and then pouted.

“I knew it!” Tyler said loudly. “You were just trying to be Mister-Warm-Strong-Man, but you’re freezing your butt off too! Get in here, jerkface.”

Josh felt his eyes narrow with the force of his smile. As far as smiles went, 2011 had probably been far above average, he thought.

“Hurry up,” Tyler mumbled, trying to hide his own smile as he opened up his blanket burrito to let Josh in.

Carefully, Josh maneuvered himself inside the mass of blankets, guiding Tyler gently backwards until they were lying together on their sides, facing each other, sandwiched on either side by the couch and the coffee table. He could almost feel the cold radiating off of Tyler’s face. He brought his lips to the tip of his nose, just to be sure. 

“Cold,” he breathed, and then clicked on his phone, holding it over his shoulder just in time to see the second hand on his clock app making the last ten seconds of its revolution back to home - the last ten seconds of the strangest and most wonderful year of Josh’s life.

_ten_

He was transported, all at once, back to Colin’s living room 365 days prior. He had been so much younger then - so much more than a year, it felt; before he was in twenty one pilots, before any of this had been any more than a daydream. 

_nine_

It still didn’t feel quite real, to be curled up in the same bundle of blankets as the boy he’d spent half of the previous year longing for. He knew that Tyler didn’t much like alcohol, but he, Josh, had thanked the Gods of champagne every day since then for granting him with sufficient boldness to pull off that first kiss. 

_eight_

Josh felt skinny, strong arms wrap around his torso, a cold nose pressing briefly against his own before migrating to his cheek. 

_seven_

His heart rate sped up, and he marveled at how, after all this time, it was still such an earth shattering _event_ to kiss this boy. 

_six_

Tyler breathed out a long and contented sigh through his nose, tightening his grip around Josh’s torso. 

_five_

Smiling, flickering brown eyes found each other in the candlelit near-dark 

_four_

Without warning, as quickly as it had gone, the rental house was flooded with light from every direction, TV exploding into life, and refrigerator rattling into existence.

_three_

“Oh my god," said Tyler. “Way to ruin the moment!” 

_two_

Tyler's lips were right there, right in front of him, and Josh was impatient. He leaned in, with a second to spare. 

_one_

Tyler’s lips tasted minty, like toothpaste, and familiar, like home. Josh felt him pull away after awhile, trying to say something, but he shut him up with his mouth, again and again, and Tyler relented, kissing in the new year. 

“Happy 2012!” shouted an announcer’s voice from the television, unheard by the two boys on the carpet, neither of them aware of anything but each other.

“I was going to say,” Tyler said eventually, speaking into the corner of Josh’s mouth, “That you were supposed to wait until midnight. You totally jumped the gun, by like, an entire second.” 

A radiator hissed rooms away, and Josh realized how quickly the blanket burrito was starting to warm up. 

“Yeah, alright, what can I say,” he grinned. “Just couldn’t take it. Had to kiss you.”

To his surprise, Tyler blushed, sitting up and peeling off the heaviest and outmost blanket layer. 

“Kind of like last year?” he murmured, corners of his mouth turned upward. 

Josh was filled with a warmth that had nothing to do with the reappearance of the house’s central heating system. With effort, he extracted an arm from the burrito, and used it to pull Tyler closer, bringing his lips to Tyler’s stubbly jawline. 

“Just like last year, yeah,” he agreed. “And just like next year, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will be continuing to update this fic between now and new years... stay tuned :)


	3. 2013

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is <3 <3

“I can’t believe this,” Tyler said. 

Josh, still scrolling through his phone on the bed, flicked his eyes up to look at him. 

“Hmm? Can’t believe what?”

“Just, like,” Tyler stammered, pulling back the curtain again to look through the sliding balcony doors and out at the flashing billboards and throngs of people below. “I’m just having trouble wrapping my mind around the reality of my current, like, location in time and space. Like, Josh, we’re here.” 

He heard Josh’s smile and short sigh of disbelief without turning around. 

“Yeah,” his boyfriend agreed, swinging himself off the bed and coming to join Tyler in his perusal of the street below. “Stupid to think that we ever complained about this trip.” 

And they certainly had complained, Tyler thought. When their manager had told them that the label was bringing them out over New Years to put all the finishing marketing and legal touches on Vessel, neither of them had been pleased. New Years was a family time, after all, and the rest of their family was back in Ohio. But really, there was no getting out of it, and their families had agreed: this was their primary concern right now. The album they had worked on all year was about to be birthed into the world, and if they had to travel several hundred miles to see it off, well, so be it. 

Now that they were here though, the perks certainly seemed to outweigh the inconveniences. Apparently, being signed with a major label came with some serious benefits when it came to travel; Fueled by Ramen had gotten them a hotel room in the heart of Times Square, with huge floor-to-ceiling window panels, two of which slid open onto a tiny but well-furnished outdoor balcony which overlooked the crowds of New Yorkers and tourists below, gathering to watch the ball drop at midnight. 

They had entertained the idea of going out, trying to get in on the action for the full New York experience, but in the end, they’d gotten as full an experience as they needed by staying in, putting the last hours of 2012 to good use with trays of room service, laughter, and a well-spent hour in one of the beds, for which they had been sure to hang a _do not disturb_ sign outside the door. 

Despite the general luxury that the label provided, it seemed that they still hadn’t graduated to the level of importance that would warrant separate hotel rooms. Or, Tyler thought, it was possible that the label knew more than they gave them credit for. He knew he should hope for the former, but the neon haze of lights and the cacophony of celebration issuing from the square made matters outside of these few blocks seem distant and unimportant. This night, as always, belonged to the two of them.

“Let’s go outside,” Tyler said out of nowhere, pointing to the balcony. 

Josh scoffed. “Tyler, it’s -” 

“It’s not even cold!” he insisted, an imploring edge in his voice. “It’s, like, over 40 degrees. That’s crazy warm for January.” 

“Not January yet,” Josh said pointedly. “But yeah, fine, okay. Let’s go.” 

Tyler flipped up the hood of Josh’s sweatshirt, which he’d pulled on before coming to stand at the window, leaving Josh in just sweatpants. 

“You’re not going to put anything on?” Tyler said disbelievingly. 

Josh shrugged, sliding the door open and stepping outside. 

“We’re like twenty floors up,” he reasoned. “And as you said, it’s super warm for January.” 

“December,” Tyler corrected with a smirk, and Josh swatted at him playfully. 

From the TV, the individual lights and billboards of Times Square had always looked distinct from one another, high up and far away - but now, from the center of the action, each giant, glittering screen seemed overwhelmingly close. Directly across from them, an enormous McCafe ad flashed and shifted before their eyes. It was like sitting at the front row of a movie theater, Tyler thought - impossible to take in the whole picture at once. 

“Everything is so big here,” Josh mused, voicing Tyler’s thoughts. He leaned over, forearms on the railing of the balcony, and surveyed the buildings around them with pursed lips and wide eyes. “I thought it would be more like… I mean, obviously it’s not like Columbus, but…”

“No, I know what you mean,” Tyler assured him. Unlike Josh, he had visited Manhattan before, most recently for a few gigs with Nick and Chris, back before Josh was in the band. Nevertheless, he still remembered the way he’d felt the very first time he had visited, as an 8-year-old, when his grandmother had taken him to the circus at Madison Square Garden. He had - like Josh, it seemed - expected the big city to essentially be a much bigger version of Columbus. But it wasn’t. It was different, and less, and more. 

“It’s like the bigness is about more than just, like, the size of the buildings,” Josh observed. “It’s everything. The billboards, the streets all close together, the people - it’s like the whole city wants to be noticed.”

He smiled gently. It wasn’t like his boyfriend to be quiet and contemplative. That was usually his job - but he found it a welcome change.

“Kinda makes you want to believe in magic, you know?” 

Tyler stayed silent. He knew. 

“There it goes!” 

The cry seemed for a minute to have come from the empty air in front of them - until Josh pointed, and Tyler followed his finger to the next balcony over. Only then did he realize that they weren’t quite alone up here; the balcony to their left was filled with a group of very well-dressed and well-styled women of about their age, and the one to their right had another couple - a man and a woman. The one who had shouted - one of the women on the left - was pointing down the square, towards One Time Square, where the huge silver ball had started to descend. 

“New Year’s resolutions, quick!” Josh breathed, straightening up and taking Tyler by the shoulders. 

“Oh, um,” Tyler flailed. “I, uh... “ 

Josh leaned in, speaking into his ear. 

“I’ll go first,” he whispered. “I resolve to love the freaking heck out of you in 2013.” 

Tyler failed to suppress a smile, but it was immediately dwarfed by Josh’s jaw-splitting grin as he pulled away. 

“Maybe,” said Tyler, “you should resolve to be less of a freaking dork. Or maybe…”

He was cut off by the thunderous cry of a thousand simultaneous voices, shouting - 

_ten!_

“...you should resolve wear a shirt...”

_nine!_

“...especially when you’re out in public…” 

_eight!_

“In January…” 

_seven!_

“December,” Josh reminded him, his grin unmoving. 

_six!_

Tyler put on a pout, but felt nothing but pure and unadulterated joy, the kind of hopeful joy that only really came to a person when they were pulled outside of themselves, forced or invited to notice the miracle of time. It was the kind of joy that could only come from something as simple and infinite as watching the year turn over, and realizing that it was going to turn over again, and then again, and then more and more and more. 

_five!_

One of the women to their left wolf-whistled at Josh’s bare chest. He flexed a little, and Tyler rolled his eyes, but he wasn’t fooled - he knew that the gesture was for him, and no one else. 

_four!_

A crowd of college guys in the window directly across from them raised their beers, yelling - either too drunk to know that they were early, or too drunk to care. 

_three!_

Tyler spent the last seconds of 2012 noticing that if he looked closely, he could just make out the multicolored billboard lights reflected in miniature in the dark brown of Josh’s eyes, which watched the celebration with utter, innocent, perfect reverence. 

_two!_

In a swift and careful motion, Tyler placed one hand on the back of Josh’s head and one at his waist, leaning his torso over the railing of the balcony, until their noses were millimeters apart.

_one!_

Josh’s lips tasted like chapstick and sex, and the fierce promise of renewed love. 

A vague wave of paranoia crossed over Tyler, but then Josh’s hand was in his hair, and he was reminded that no one was looking at them - everyone was wrapped up in their own celebration of what was past, and hope for what was to come. Even in such close quarters, they were alone. 

It was only when they straightened up again that Tyler realized that confetti had been falling. From where, he wasn’t sure - but it clung to Josh’s hair like snow, and littered his bare shoulders, making him glow even more in the flashing billboard lights. 

“I like this year so far,” Josh mused. “I hope it stays this nice.” 

Tyler thought of their imminent album release, and the hundreds of possible reactions it could receive. He thought of the uncertainty that would follow, and the pressure he’d be under to write more and again and better. 

But as he watched Josh watch the confetti fall, gleeful and childlike, it all felt manageable. He held onto the feeling of invincibility, knowing that it would be gone by the morning. Hope was transitive, like high tide - or like New Years eve. 

And yet, like the tide, and like precipice on which they hovered together every year, Tyler knew that the feeling would return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> golly gee i love the holidays ! ! ! (and soft boys)


	4. 2014

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oops sorry i'm still here

The basement stairs were cluttered with last week’s Christmas decorations, but Josh still managed to find a place to squeeze himself down, teetering tipsily as he went. 

This was the only place he could find to be away from the cloying noise of the party, all made worse by the haze of champagne and the sting of nostalgia. Whatever this New Years Eve was, it wasn’t what it used to be. That was one of the only things Josh had felt sure of in awhile. 

The door creaked open behind him, and Josh swiveled around, excuses ready on the tip of his tongue - but seeing who hit was, he let his shoulders slump forward again. He thought he’d be alone here - but his sister knew the secrets of their house as well as he did, and knew where he’d disappear. 

“Did you drink so much that you forgot where the bathroom was?” Ashley laughed, bracing herself with a hand on Josh’s back as she sat down next to him. 

“Ha, ha, ha,” Josh deadpanned, holding his beer up to his lips again. He’d lost track of how many he’d had at this point - they’d somehow just kept appearing within his reach, set down next to him or handed to him by various friends. 

Ashley let out a long breath through her nose. 

“Talk, dude,” she said simply. His sister had never been one to beat around the bush. 

“I’m fine,” Josh said under his breath. 

“Bull,” Ashley countered. “I know exactly what this day means to you, and so does everyone else - we were all there when it started a few years ago, remember?” 

Josh remembered. 

“And I know it probably doesn’t help that you have to see him today -” 

“I don’t understand what he’s doing here without her,” Josh interrupted spitefully. “I’m surprised he can even function this far away from her little finger any more.” 

He regretted saying it immediately, cement and acid settling in his stomach. 

“There’s no point saying shit like that to me,” Ashley said quietly. “You’re not fooling anyone. Even _you_ know you don’t mean it. We all love her.” 

She was right, of course. They all loved Jenna - Josh was no exception. It was impossible to feel anything other than total affection for the girl whose generous spirit and unflinching kindness had brightened each and every one of their years - no one’s more so than Tyler. 

“Still,” Josh hummed, trying not to admit defeat. “It’s weird for him to come to a New Years Eve party without her. Don’t you think?” 

Ashley shrugged. “I guess,” she said. “But that doesn’t really seem like a good excuse for you to jump ship from the whole party. Debby’s looking for you.” 

Guilt seeped further into Josh’s every organ. 

“Where?” 

“Your room,” she said immediately. “Upstairs. She sent me down here to find you.” 

Josh raised an eyebrow.

“You shouldn’t abandon her, you know? She helped Momma organize this party, it means a lot to her.” 

“Yeah,” Josh agreed, handing Ashley his beer and using the railing to leverage himself up. “Alright.” 

He kept a low profile as he let his sister lead him through the crowded downstairs, hovering close behind her and trying not to give anyone a chance to realize that he’d been gone, or that he was disappearing again. 

Josh found Debby at the door of his room, slender and stunning and warm. 

“There you are,” she said softly, gesturing into his room. “C’mere a minute - I want to show you something.” 

“In my own bedroom?” Josh laughed, stepping inside nonetheless. 

The next few seconds passed very quickly. Josh barely had time to register that someone was sitting on his bed - that _Tyler_ was sitting on his bed - before the door closed swiftly behind him, and he heard the lock click into place. 

“Oh _no_ ,” Josh snapped immediately, whirling around and jiggling the doorknob fruitlessly over and over. “No, this is… this is ridiculous, guys, what the hell?” 

He chanced a look over his shoulder at his band mate, who looked surprised, but not quite as distressed as Josh did. 

“She told me you wanted to talk,” Tyler mumbled, standing up and facing away from him. “I didn’t know they were going to shut us in here.” 

Josh groaned, pressing his forehead against the door.

“Ash, what the hell,” he muttered. “Let us out.” 

“Sorry,” came his sister’s muffled voice. “We’ve tried to get you guys to talk, but obviously that hasn’t worked - so we had to resort to booze, and celebration, and, you know…” 

“Sheer, irresistible chemistry,” he heard Debby add.

He could hear Tyler’s blush. 

“Deb,” Josh croaked, out of any ideas other than stating the obvious. “Debby, you’re my girlfriend. We’re _dating._ ” 

“Are we?” she said, her voice strange. “It kind of seems like you’re half dating me, and half still dating this idea of Tyler that you’re trying to hold onto. I’m not saying that’s a bad thing -” she added immediately, as both Tyler and Josh started to make loud noises of protest. “It’s just what’s going on - at least from my perspective.” 

Josh very pointedly avoided looking in Tyler’s direction. 

“Well, regardless,” he said, trying to keep his voice level, “Tyler is dating Jenna, so this is really not -” 

“Oh, Jenna talked to Debby,” Ashley cut in immediately. “This was her idea in the first place.” 

“I - _what_?” Josh choked, whipping around now to stare pointedly at Tyler, as if it he was somehow responsible. 

“Yep,” chirped Debby, “and she and I agreed. This is your anniversary, dating or not. You deserve to spend it together, and quite frankly, we’re all getting a little bit exhausted by the sort of awkward-friend-dance that you guys are doing around each other. I mean, even the interviews are getting weird.” 

He felt his blood run hot, but he didn’t argue. 

“So,” came his sister’s voice again, “we’re leaving you guys in here until after the countdown. And we think it would be a good idea to kiss, but like, no pressure.” 

“Well, a little pressure,” interjected Debby. “You guys have some _hella_ tension that needs to be released.” 

He heard Tyler make a sound behind him that fell somewhere between a scoff and a choke. 

“Debby,” he pleaded, resorting to the last thing he could think of. “I was supposed to kiss you at midnight.” 

“It’s no biggie,” she said simply. “I’ll just have to kiss Ashley.” 

Josh felt his mouth open and close involuntarily several times. He couldn’t see Ashley’s face through the door, but he knew her well enough to imagine her flustered but placid expression.

For a moment, Tyler looked as dumbstruck as Josh felt - and then he cracked the first smile since being shut in here. 

“Jesus,” Tyler swore quietly. 

“Yeah, I - what the fuck,” Josh echoed. 

Tyler let out a low breath, and shoved his hands into his pockets, pacing back and forth in front of the door of his closet. Josh shoved himself away from the door, moving to sit on the bed, pulling his feet up under him and digging the heels of his hands into his eyes. 

“We don’t have to do it,” Tyler said suddenly, looking at the wall somewhere to the right of Josh’s head. “I mean… yeah, obviously, we can just… you know. I don’t think they’re letting us out, but that doesn’t mean we have to…” 

“Yeah, no, we shouldn’t,” Josh agreed. 

“Definitely shouldn’t,” Tyler affirmed, fixing his eyes intently on the Rancid poster above Josh’s bed. 

“You’re - I mean, Jenna - Deb could be making that whole conversation up.” 

Tyler immediately flushed scarlet, and folded his arms. Josh raised an eyebrow. 

“She’s… uh. She’s not making it up.” Tyler’s voice sounded more frustrated than anything else, strained and uncertain. 

“No?” Josh pressed tentatively. 

“No,” Tyler mumbled, folding his arms uncomfortably and shifting from foot to foot. “Jenna knows that… I mean, yeah. She just…” he took in a long breath. “She’s not at her parents. She’s actually just out with some friends, because she wanted… she wanted me to come here alone.” 

Josh tried to wrap his head around what he was hearing.

“You… did you break up?” he said. 

“No!” Tyler said immediately. “No, we’re definitely still… yeah, no we’re together. So you and I should just… yeah, friends.” 

That is what they had agreed upon, after all. _Friends_ was easier. _Friends_ was less messy. Friends was better for the band, and so were _girlfriends,_ and _forced amiability,_ and _pretense,_ but Josh kept quiet about those. 

But as much as he loved Debby - really, truly loved her - and as much he cared for and admired Jenna, it seemed that despite everything, both girls understood much more than either he or Tyler had given them credit for.

His affection for both of them, and for his sister, surged almost to the point of breaking, and Josh had to swallow down a mixture of warmth and disorientation.

He wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol - maybe it was just the holiday, or the fact that Tyler was so close - but he suddenly couldn’t remember a single one of the reasons why they had decided to give this up in the first place. 

“Josh,” Tyler said quietly. 

_Ten!_

He didn’t let himself look into Tyler’s wide, brown eyes. 

_Nine!_

Letting himself look would be a terrible idea, irrevocable, and messy. 

_Eight!_

He’d forgotten quite how round they were, how red his cheeks, and how full his lips. 

_Seven!_

There was a quiet commotion outside the door, and Josh registered the muffled sounds of Debby deflecting someone from trying to get into the room. 

_Six!_

They were friends for a reason. 

_Five!_

Neither habit nor tradition were good enough reasons to give in. Not even love.

_Four!_

Not even New Year’s Eve. 

_Three!_

It happened in the very last seconds.

_Two!_

By the time Josh had decided to move, Tyler was already halfway across the room. 

_One!_

The New Year arrived on Tyler’s breath, and his lips followed shortly after. It was unlike any of their other New Years kisses - sharp, and aggressive, and somehow still tender at the same time. Tyler tasted like chapstick and Jenna, and Josh found that he didn’t mind. 

They broke apart only when their lungs demanded it, and in a single movement, Josh’s forehead found its way to Tyler’s shoulder. 

Neither spoke for several moments, and then Tyler’s voice made itself known in his ear: 

“Do you think they actually kissed?” he whispered, and Josh erupted into laughter. 

Neither his sister nor his girlfriend asked questions when he and Tyler emerged from the room ten minutes later, but something told him that they didn’t need to. 

“Come with me J,” Debby said cheerfully, pulling him down the hall and fumbling with her free hand in her velvet clutch. Josh, dazed, followed along. 

He watched Debby turn the corner to the bathroom, leaning in towards the mirror and applying a thick layer of dark red lipstick, before turning back to him. 

“C’mere,” she grinned, and pulled him down to place a long, firm kiss on his cheek. 

He could tell she left a mark without looking in the mirror. His cheek felt taut and sticky, in sharp contrast - or maybe even sharp complement - to the numbness of his lips. 

“For instagram’s sake,” she explained. “Now get against that wall so I can take the picture. And look up, and down the hall - no, that way… good.” 

Josh stood still, letting her take the photo, feeling dazed and drunk on adrenaline and love. Anyone else would have mistaken this move as a chance for Debby to flaunt their relationship to her fans, or boost her ego - but Josh saw it for what it really was. He knew what she was trying to do, and his chest swelled with gratitude to her, and to his sister, and to everyone at this party. 

“There,” Debby said quietly, lips parted slightly in concentration, and long nails tapping away at her phone. 

He felt his own phone vibrate in his pocket, and pulled it out to see that she had sent him the photo, along with a caption in quotes: “cheeky at midnight.”

“I’ll post one too,” she said, slipping her phone back into her pocket. “The one we took earlier, outside. No one will suspect anything that way. This is for us to figure out. The four of us.” 

He shook his head in disbelief. 

“Deb-” 

“We can talk in the morning,” she quieted him. “We should be sober, and we should let Ty and Jenna have their say. You know?” 

He nodded, still dumbstruck. 

“Yeah,” he breathed. 

Downstairs, Debby on his arm, Josh craned his neck in every direction until he found what he was looking for. Tyler turned away from his conversation with Mark and Ben only long enough to look in Josh’s direction, his face breaking out into a smile. 

It was the kind of whole-hearted, shy, and ecstatic smile that reminded Josh of the early days, when their friendship was in its infancy. It was, he realized, the smile that Tyler had given him the first time they’d met, under the exit sign all those years ago. It was the kind of smile he’d given him when he’d asked him to join the band, and it was the smile he’d given him when on this night three years ago, when Josh had pulled away from their first kiss and found Tyler, flushed and on fire, and _smiling._

Half an hour ago, a good year had seemed impossible. Now, somehow, it seemed inevitable - and for the first time in months, Josh believed in magic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am not interested in hearing about how much you hate debby just fyi <3


End file.
